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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610085">A Mystery I Want to Read</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argent_Vulpine/pseuds/Argent_Vulpine'>Argent_Vulpine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ashen Wolves (Mentioned) - Freeform, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Implied Verdant Wind Route, Mentions of C-Rank Support, Mentions of Cindered Shadows, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), mentions of trauma, there was only one tent, what is a beta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argent_Vulpine/pseuds/Argent_Vulpine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuri and Byleth have gone out on a scouting mission, taking only what they need, and he spends it trying to puzzle out this new professor more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another "there was only one tent" idea! I couldn't resist. Also I suck at summaries and really just wanted a think-piece of Yuri studying Byleth.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuri prided himself on knowing. Things, people, whatever was necessary. He knew every twist and turn in Abyss, and he could read his associates as if they were children’s books. But the professor… she was something else. He couldn’t get a read on her, this mysterious woman. She and her students had stumbled into his domain and had still managed to best his motley crew in an admittedly unfair fight, and she’d done it somehow without breaking a sweat, that flat expression of hers never once changing.</p><p>Even when he’d threatened her, promised to slit her throat if she proved untrustworthy, she hadn’t cracked. Hell, she’d turned around not long after and brought him a gift, asked him for tea, and she’d even found something of his and returned it, no questions asked, no desire for anything in return. It didn’t sit well with him.</p><p>And here she was now, sitting across from him in the dim light of the tent, a single candle between them as her quill scratched against parchment, her face just as unreadable as ever. Yuri didn’t know why he’d allowed her to come along. Perhaps as a way to get to know her better, see if he could crack her stony exterior. Or maybe for the chance to see her in action, the Ashen Demon he’d heard so much about. He’d gotten a glimpse of what she was writing and grown bored with it fairly quickly when all he saw were lesson plans and a simple ledger keeping track of her month’s expenditures, though he did raise a slender eyebrow at the sheer cost of… everything. And if he’d read it right, the church - despite their full coffers - weren’t providing all that much. She’d notated several personal deposits to the funds, rewards for missions and bounties. Ever the mercenary, this one, he thought with a wry smile.</p><p>He was reading - studying, really - by the candlelight, occasionally glancing up at her through long lashes, pale purple eyes studying her. Sometimes she would pause over her inkwell before gently dipping her quill and continuing her work. She hardly seemed bothered by the quiet, and he found that he didn’t mind it much, either. Abyss could be a noisy place, after all, especially with Balthus or Constance around. Being able to focus on his own studies for once was… nice.</p><p>It took him a long moment to realize he hadn’t heard the scratching of a quill for some time, and he looked up from his book to see Byleth watching him, and almost curious expression in her eyes. It did not, he noticed, extend to her face. Interesting. “Can I help you, friend?”</p><p>“Do you like arithmetic?” she asked, gesturing to his book with the feathered end of her quill.</p><p>“Like it? Well, perhaps, but it’s also useful, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p>She hummed softly, perhaps agreeing with him. He noticed then that she’d put away her inkwell, her work stored carefully away. “The numbers are like the battlefield,” she said after a time, deep blue eyes studying his book. “Everything is basically the same, but if you move them around a bit, it changes the meaning.”</p><p>Yuri leaned back a little, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “A little strange but… yeah, it makes sense.”</p><p>“Oh. Sorry, I distracted you from your studies, didn’t I?” she asked, with that same careful neutrality that never seemed to go away.</p><p>He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. There’s only so much one can do in a night, anyway.” He leaned over and pushed the tent flap aside just enough to peek out. “It’s getting dark. I think we’re safe here for the night.”</p><p>Byleth nodded once, sharp. “I’ll take first watch,” she offered, making as if to stand.</p><p>“No, no, friend, I’ll do it.” Her lips pursed just slightly, the closest he’d seen to a true frown yet. “You had a long day already, didn’t you? Get some rest, you can have the next. We’ll be out here a few days anyway, right?”</p><p>“True. If you’re sure…” When he didn’t seem inclined to change his mind, she nodded again before settling her gear around the edge of her side of the tent, a barrier - feeble as it was - against the night and intruders.</p><p>Yuri shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was a mercenary by trade. But still… perhaps it was because he’d known she’d traveled with a band, and her father. Surely she’d felt safe enough not to require those sorts of precautions. The fact she took them anyway made him reevaluate his opinion of her. Again.</p><p>The professor took that moment to stretch, drawing his eye to her curves, the way her chest strained against her top, how the muscles in her legs rippled beneath the fabric of her tights. He could admit she was attractive. Hell, anyone with eyes could see that, and if they couldn’t, then they’d need to be checked for a brain. But he still didn’t trust her.</p><p>“Wake me if you need me,” she said absently, his wayward gaze unnoticed as she slipped into her bedroll and shut her eyes.</p><p>“Of course. Good night, friend,” he replied, amused to note that she was already asleep. Or she was really good at feigning it, at least. He gathered his weapon and slipped out of the tent, allowing himself a moment to adjust his eyes to the starlit semi-darkness that blanketed over them.</p><p>He found himself thinking back to his studies of her that night, watching for the so-subtle shifts in her expression. She really was good at keeping things from her face, but it was her eyes that gave her away. She really was quite the enigma. He paced their little clearing for an hour or so, until he was sure that there was little need to remain outside the tent. A light sleeper himself, standing watch wasn’t even truly necessary; he’d be awake if a twig so much as creaked.</p><p>The professor, though… he wondered.</p><p>Yuri slipped back into the tent as quietly as possible, readjusting to the darker confines of the canvas. She was still sleeping, her expression more relaxed than he’d ever seen it before. He’d called her adorable, before, mockingly, but looking at her now, it was somehow the right word. Her deep blue hair spilled about her head like a dark halo, and her lips were slightly parted in sleep.</p><p>What would happen, he wondered, if he tried to get close? Would she startle awake? Scream? Panic? Would she sleep through if his hand brushed her cheek, or if, perhaps, he dared to steal a kiss from her? His curiosity got the better of him, his desire to know more about this enigma of a woman making him move toward her, reaching out a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. Her skin was surprisingly soft, and cool to the touch. How curious. He was moving to get closer, noting a scar that had caught his attention, when she blurred into sudden movement, a knife at his throat as she pinned him to the ground, fire in her eyes that cleared away to placidity when she saw who she was straddling.</p><p>Byleth was off him as quickly as she’d awoken. “Is it my turn for the watch already?” she asked, voice as calm as ever.</p><p>He stared at her, wide-eyed and more than a little pleased (and perhaps aroused, though he wouldn’t admit that even to himself). “No, friend, my apologies. You had something on your face. I was merely getting it off.” Not really a lie; let her think whatever she wanted about his statement.</p><p>Her gaze studied him for a long moment before she gave a slight nod, settling back in her bedroll. “Please close the tent flap, Yuri. You’re letting the heat escape.” It was all she said before she settled back down, the dagger once more hidden from view.</p><p>Damn, she was good.</p><p>He laughed to himself even as he did as he was bid, tying the flaps closed to prevent an errant breeze from snaking its way in.</p><p>When he finally laid down to get some rest of his own, he did so carefully, so as not to wake the professor. Clearly she wasn’t as deep a sleeper as she’d originally seemed, and while having her on top of him hadn’t been the worst experience, he’d certainly prefer to avoid another knife to his throat.</p><p>It was therefore a bit of a surprise when she sleepily turned on her side, one arm flinging out and settling across him, her hand almost instinctively seeking out his beating heart and resting comfortably over it. She gave a little sigh of contentment, and something in him gave a little, traitorous flutter.</p><p>He couldn’t like her, dammit. He didn’t know her well enough to even really trust her. Liking her? Out of the question.</p><p>But he didn’t remove her arm from his torso, either, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep with her just like that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fourth Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuri learns something new about Byleth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken some convincing, after that first night. A full watch throughout the night wasn’t necessary, not where they were at or even where they were going. Yuri would have said she was angry, but aside from a minute narrowing of her eyes, perhaps a little tightening of the corners of her lips… he couldn’t really tell. It wasn’t that she was impossible to read, he decided, only that he hadn’t yet learned <em>how</em>.</p><p>Still, she didn’t argue with him. Not that she’d ever seemed the type to argue, anyway, truth be told. She hadn’t even brought up how she’d been cuddled against him that next morning; whether to see if he did or not, he wasn’t sure, and he felt no need to mention it at all.</p><p>They alternated nights for the watch, now, and tonight was Byleth’s turn. Yuri was in the tent, attempting to let sleep claim him, when he heard the faintest scraping sound – a rhythmic <em>shhk, shhk, shhk</em> – which caught his attention. The sound would change every now and then, still scraping, but a different tone. Some were longer, others abruptly short.</p><p>Whatever it was, Byleth didn’t sound the alarm, so either she couldn’t hear it (unlikely, he told himself), or she was aware of it and didn’t find it problematic.</p><p>Well, he did. It was a sound he wasn’t familiar with, and just erratic enough that it was keeping him awake. With a sigh, he slid out from his bedroll and shuffled forward, opening the tent flap to see what was going on.</p><p>Yuri had not in the slightest expected to see Byleth stretched out leisurely, her back against a log… and whittling. She had a hefty piece of wood in one hand, left over from their modest dinner fire, and perhaps the smallest knife he’d ever seen in her other, meticulously carving away at the wood. She looked up briefly at the sound of the tent flap moving, deep blue eyes acknowledging his presence but saying nothing, instead returning her focus to her task.</p><p>The silence stretched for a long moment as Yuri watched her work, shaping the piece though he had no idea what she was carving. Did <em>she</em> even know? Or was she just working away at the wood with no real rhyme or reason?</p><p>“I didn’t know you carved,” he finally said, fully emerging from the tent and settling himself beside her, pale purple eyes watching her deft fingers at work on the piece.</p><p>He missed the way her lips quirked up the slightest amount, a brief, amused smile before it was schooled away again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, remember?” she replied, twisting the wood in her hand and scraping away at it, one tiny sliver at a time.</p><p>“Sure, but this one is actually a surprise. Is this a new hobby?”</p><p>“No.” A pause as she considered the object in hand, turning it this way and that in the dim light. “I can’t remember when I started. But it’s been a while. I like it.”</p><p>She’d said that a lot, when he’d asked questions about her past: that she couldn’t remember, only that it simply was. He hadn’t wanted to believe her at first, but there was no reason for her to lie over something as simple as whittling, so… perhaps it was true. But that simply created more questions.</p><p>An enigma, wrapped in a mystery. A challenge, one he was willing to take on.</p><p>They fell into something resembling a companionable silence as he watched her work, saw the beginnings of a shape form in the wood. Really he should be asleep; they had more traveling to do, after all, but he was fascinated by the way she worked. He watched her face as much as he did her hands, saw the way her lips thinned or pursed when she was deep in thought, how her head tilted at the slightest angle when she considered the craft before her. She was quick to swipe away loose pieces with her thumb between strokes of the knife, swift enough that it was clear the motion was muscle memory from long practice.</p><p>It was late when she stopped and glanced up at the sky, before turning to look at him. “We should sleep.”</p><p>He had to bite back a laugh at the way she said it, so matter-of-factly, and instead he nodded. “Indeed we should. More miles to cover, after all.”</p><p>Byleth stood, dusting herself off, and carefully tucked the whittling knife away into her pack, retrieving a cloth into which she wrapped the unfinished carving before returning it to the same pocket of her bag. The glimpse of the interior was brief, not nearly enough for Yuri to see what else lie tucked inside. No matter.</p><p>He was, admittedly, beginning to trust her. At least a little.</p><p>They entered the tent quietly, Byleth tucking her pack off to the side, adding to the barrier that she created every night. By the time she was done, Yuri had already settled himself back in his bedroll, his eyes firmly shut.</p><p>He heard the shuffling of Byleth arranging herself for sleep. A soft sound akin to a yawn – and the thought that she <em>could</em> yawn had him smiling – and then an even softer sigh.</p><p>Silence. He was drifting off when Byleth, so quietly he almost didn’t hear, said, “Goodnight, Yuri.”</p><p>“… yeah. Goodnight, friend.”</p><p>He was still awake when Byleth, asleep and relaxed, once again draped her arm across his torso. The nights were getting chilly, especially where they were now, so he couldn’t blame her for wanting extra warmth… though it surprised him that she trusted him enough to be so relaxed around him. He’d tensed up the first two nights she’d done this, unsure how to proceed. Now it was just… how they slept. She never seemed bothered by it, and he refused to bring it up at this point.</p><p>And… perhaps he could get used to this. Yuri gave a soft sigh, relaxing her arm, and, for the first time, dared to place his own hand over hers. She made a soft sound, fingers twitching slightly, but settled down just as quickly as she’d stirred.</p><p>The next morning, he had to admit to himself – deep, <em>deep</em> down – that he’d had one of the easiest nights of rest in a long time.</p><p>He refused to think on what it meant.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Seventh Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Byleth is wounded in battle and Yuri doesn't take it the most gracefully.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That was beyond stupid,” he hissed as Byleth hobbled alongside him, a hand pressed to her side while a gash in her leg dripped blood. “You could have died!”</p>
<p>“You almost did,” she replied simply, her voice quiet but firm. “This is nothing.”</p>
<p>They’d done what they had set out to do, to be sure, but the fight hadn’t been easy. There had been more of the opposing gang than he’d expected, but he’d needed to deal with them now. They had already been causing problems for Abyssians, and he couldn’t let that continue.</p>
<p>Byleth getting injured hadn’t exactly been part of his plans.</p>
<p>They were near the little clearing where they’d made camp, and so Yuri scooped her up into his arms without warning, hurrying back the last few yards while doing his best not to jostle her about. She was looking even paler than usual, and only the tightening of the skin around her eyes and lips suggested to him that she even felt the pain at all.</p>
<p>He got her into the tent and set her down gingerly on her bedding. “Sorry, friend, but I need to check your injuries.”</p>
<p>She nodded tersely, probably used to things like this. Modesty really hadn’t much place for a mercenary, after all.</p>
<p>Still, he did try to help her maintain some semblance of decency, only peeling up her (far too tight) shirt to get a better look at the wound. The one on her leg could wait; it hadn’t struck an artery, but gut injuries could be really bad if not treated quickly. He fumbled for a canteen and a cloth, soaking it – and himself in the process – so that he could wipe away the blood.</p>
<p>Good. It wasn’t too deep, despite how profusely it was bleeding. Yuri pulled magic into his hand, offering a silent prayer to the goddess, and smoothed his palm over the wound.</p>
<p>Byleth took in a sharp breath at the sensation, and then relaxed. If he hadn’t spent the last week with her, studying her reactions, he might not have noticed at all, that subtle shift in her posture. So. It had been hurting her more than she’d let on. He frowned, briefly lifting his hand to see the progress of the healing. Almost there.</p>
<p>When her skin had knitted together enough to leave a pink trail across her stomach, he shuffled back a few steps and – glancing her way for permission – gently lifted her leg into his lap. Her tights were a mess, ripped to shreds as they were, but it made it that much easier for him to shift the lace out of the way to expose the wound. Again, he cleansed it with the damp cloth, careful and slow, before he once again pulled magic into his hand.</p>
<p>When he spread his palm across her leg in a gesture that otherwise would have been far too intimate, he couldn’t help the slight blush that dusted his cheeks. He could feel the muscle beneath, as with her stomach, but she was also still so… soft.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t be having these sorts of thoughts about her. He still didn’t know nearly enough of who she was, her past, anything. And besides, she was technically his professor, and she definitely seemed the sort who wouldn’t accept any sort of… liaisons with a student.</p>
<p>Not that he should be thinking things like that all, he told himself firmly, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind.</p>
<p>“Yuri.”</p>
<p>Byleth’s voice called him back to reality and he blinked at her. “Sorry, did you say something, friend?”</p>
<p>Her lips twitched with amusement. “I said that I am certain the wound is healed enough. Don’t tire yourself out on my account.”</p>
<p>He frowned at her and lifted his hand to check for himself. As before, there was only a thin pink line to suggest anything had happened at all. Yuri cleared his throat and released her leg, watching her lift and flex it experimentally. He might have been offended, if it weren’t for the fact that he understood the sentiment. A fighter wanted to make sure they were at their best, after all.</p>
<p>The remnants of her tights rolled away, exposing more of her bare skin. A thought occurred to him, something he’d never thought to ask before.</p>
<p>“Byleth?” She hummed a response, carefully sitting up, fingers skating over her stomach to check the wound there. The action almost distracted him from his thoughts. “Why do you wear those tights?”</p>
<p>She stilled, and he could see the way one of her eyebrows lifted, the curious expression lurking just under the surface. The way her lips pressed together, not the same as when she was concentrating or annoyed. He suspected she was suppressing a smile, or perhaps laughter. “Why do you think?”</p>
<p>Yuri had seen the way her leg was covered in scars, large and small, but they all seemed as if they’d been shallow wounds. “I think…” he began slowly, evaluating her entire appearance, “… I think that you know it can be a distraction. The same way your coat’s sleeves can mask movement.”</p>
<p>She did smile, then. It was so small, and would have been so easy to miss if he hadn’t been watching her. “Perhaps I just like the way it looks.” A pause, and the smile broadened almost imperceptibly. “The same reason that you wear makeup and make sure your clothes are meticulous.”</p>
<p>A flush crept up his neck, thankfully covered by his collar and hair. Had she been watching him, too? Of course she had, that was a silly thought. How had he not noticed?</p>
<p>“Or… maybe it’s both.”</p>
<p>That drew his gaze to her eyes, which sparkled with amusement now that he was looking at them closely. Strange to think that he’d thought her emotionless before. Perhaps she simply hadn’t known <em>how</em> to convey what she felt, until the monastery.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s effective,” he finally decided on, turning his gaze away. “You should get some rest, my friend. We’ve a long trip back.”</p>
<p>If he noticed the way her gaze lingered on him, scrutinizing and curious, he gave no sign. After a time, Byleth gave a soft sigh and drifted off to sleep. She could worry about fresh clothes after a nap, after all. He was right. Resting was important, and they would have to be on the move very soon.</p>
<p>Yuri waited until she had fallen truly asleep before he crept out of the tent. There was something he needed to make sure of before they left. His gaze lingered in her direction, soft, before it hardened with purpose.</p>
<p>There would be <em>no</em> survivors. Not after this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Final Night, New Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been five years, and Byleth has returned, but her eyes are haunted and she finds it impossible to sleep. So Yuri offers to help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had watched her fall. He’d thought he had watched her die, but no, he’d been wrong, and for once in his life he was glad he’d been this wrong.</p>
<p>Yuri had watched her fall, and hadn’t had the time to register, to grieve, before he had to do what she’d ordered him to do. What they’d worked tirelessly at, night after night leading up to Edelgard’s march on the monastery. He’d gotten the Abyssians out first, everyone who would go, and then he’d cleared a way for the house that he’d been pulled into by the enigma that was Byleth Eisner. He and the rest of the Ashen Wolves, who were now the only option for Claude and the rest of the Golden Deer to escape the destruction.</p>
<p>He had watched her fall, and yet here she now stood, her hair that same odd seafoam green, eyes blazing with determination. She looked as if she had simply stepped through time, completely unchanged. Sleeping, she’d said. Sleeping where, only the goddess knew, but that was neither here nor there. The important fact was that she was <em>here</em>. She’d come back.</p>
<p>When he’d heard the news that Garreg Mach was being once again used, when he’d heard about the Crest of Flames banner flying… he had to know for himself. He had to <em>see</em>.</p>
<p>And there she’d been. Visiting him in Abyss. Checking in with him and the others, telling him that she was glad he’d returned.</p>
<p>But they hadn’t had much time to rest since then. Claude had a plan, and Byleth was there to help. Yuri, too, had been happy to lend his assistance. He liked Claude, got along with him well enough, though he didn’t think they’d ever fully trusted each other. No, Byleth was the real key. And if Byleth trusted one, then that was all it took.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until they were on the march to Ailell to retrieve reinforcements that Yuri began to suspect something was wrong with Byleth. Shadows haunted her eyes. More than once, he and Claude exchanged worried glances behind her back. But what to do?</p>
<p>He found her on the third night of their march, leaning against a fallen tree with her face turned up to the sky. She heard his approach, her hand on her sword, though her eyes never strayed from whatever she was looking at. “Hey, friend,” he said, quietly, noting the way she relaxed, moving her hand from the hilt.</p>
<p>Byleth turned then, just slightly, to look at him. Wordlessly, she patted the ground beside her, and Yuri settled into the spot, their shoulders brushing together. “Can’t sleep, huh?” he asked, and felt more than saw her shake her head.</p>
<p>They sat in silence for a long moment, watching the stars. “I slept for too long.”</p>
<p>He stiffened, then sighed and bumped against her. “It wasn’t your fault. That was a nasty fall you took. Whatever… whatever happened, it saved your life.”</p>
<p>Five years. The words went unspoken. Five years, she’d been asleep. The world had moved on without her, into war.</p>
<p>“I try to sleep. And sometimes I dream that I’m falling. Or that I don’t wake up. Or that I wake up and it’s been more years. Five. Ten. Fifty.” Her voice is so soft he has to strain to hear what she says despite being beside her.</p>
<p>He waits until she’s done speaking and then huffs out a sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Yuri doesn’t know why he does it. It simply feels… natural. Nor does she seem to mind. In fact, she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“You still need sleep, Byleth,” he finally says. “Come with me. We can share a tent like old times.” <em>I’ll make sure you wake up</em>, is the unspoken statement. <em>I’ll make sure you don’t leave again.</em></p>
<p>After a moment, he can feel her nod. He stands and helps her to her feet, surprised by how much smaller she looks now. He hadn’t realized before, her presence is so powerful that it takes up entire rooms, but she really is such a small thing, now that he’s really looking. Small, and tired.</p>
<p>And so he leads her back to his tent, doesn’t even know – or care – if she has one of her own. He’s only got the one bedroll right now, a problem that can be solved another night. Tonight, he thinks that she won’t mind. They armor down, moving around each other and placing items against the edges of the tent, a nightly ritual. Unnecessary in the middle of a war camp, while surrounded by friends and allies, but done all the same.</p>
<p>There’s a brief hesitation – he isn’t sure from who, or perhaps it’s both – but the end result is that Yuri gets into the bedroll first, holding the covers up for Byleth. She pauses another moment, unsure, and then something in her strengthens, and she settles down beside him, her back pressing against his chest.</p>
<p>Yuri wraps his arm around her, a dim memory of long ago surfacing, when she had been the one to reach out to him like this. She smells faintly of flowers and campfires and leather, and he breathes her in, reassuring himself that this is real, that <em>she</em> is real.</p>
<p>Byleth finally succumbs to sleep.</p>
<p>Yuri wakes her in the morning, watching as she sleepily rubs her eyes. His heart swells with feelings he hadn’t allowed himself to feel even since before she fell.</p>
<p>They are both quiet, taking care of their morning routines. Brushing hair and teeth, using a damp cloth to scrub at faces. Yuri still takes the time to do his makeup, a routine that helps to keep him grounded. She watches him, a hint of bemused fascination in her eyes. He knows he’s never seen her wear makeup, is fairly certain she’s never even tried.</p>
<p>Maybe one day he can teach her. He thinks she is beautiful on her own, but oh, to see the looks on people’s faces if she wore a bit of rouge, a dusting of blush on her cheeks.</p>
<p>She waits until he’s done, and then they leave together in search of breakfast before the march begins again.</p>
<p>That night, she brings her gear with her to his tent, sets it against the edges. Her bedroll is laid beside his, so close it is nearly overlapping. He saw Claude’s questioning gaze as they strategized at the war table. Wondered if perhaps the other man was jealous, but all the man did was give Yuri the slightest of nods, the smallest of smiles. <em>Take care of her</em>, his eyes seemed to say.</p>
<p>That was a promise that Yuri could keep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Byleth never does return to sleeping in her own tent. When they are at the monastery, she will sleep in her rooms as expected of her, but even then she rarely sleeps alone.</p>
<p>After all, who else will wake her up if he doesn’t?</p>
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